Long Shot
by KJosephine
Summary: In her sixth year, Hermione is offered the chance to take her NEWTs early and specialize in one area of study for the remainder of her Hogwarts education. The only subject she considers is Potions, and she can't wait to start learning more from the teacher she has always wanted to impress - Professor Snape. AU, disregards HBP and DH, songfic based on Kelly Clarkson's Long Shot
1. Chapter 1 - I Felt It

**Chapter One: I Felt It**

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape acknowledged as she approached his desk.

"Professor," said Hermione, "I've been meaning to ask you if I could … that is to say, Professor Dumbledore offered … Sir, do you think maybe you could..."

"Oh, just spit it out already, Miss Granger," Snape snapped, already annoyed by Miss Granger's uncharacteristic reticence.

"Sir, Professor Dumbledore called me into his office a few days ago and told me that since my other teachers consider me advanced enough, he would like me to take my NEWTs next week."

Snape glanced up from the papers piled on his desk and noticed that Miss Granger had caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "I knew this already, Miss Granger, from altogether too many staff meetings. How exactly does it affect me?" He already knew, of course, but it amused him to see Miss Granger nervous, a rare sight.

"Sir, Professor Dumbledore told me that after I take my NEWTs, I ought to choose one of my subjects to continue my studies in at a higher level." She paused and an expression of pure panic crossed her face. "I thought that since Potions is the one class I am still taking, I could continue my studies with _you_."

Snape frowned. Miss Granger was one of his best students, to be true – the best of all his students, if he was really honest with himself, better even than all his seventh year students – but he had doubts of her ever being truly great at the art. She followed directions too closely, feared experimentation and mistakes as no true master of Potions did.

He could, however, work on that, were she to study with him more closely.

Hermione grew more and more anxious as Snape's head tilted ever-so-slightly to one side. Her gaze flicked over him, drinking in his appearance. His pitch-dark hair, shiny with perspiration from the heat of the classroom after brewing. His onyx-black eyes that glittered like a pile of gemstones, with new, darker circles under them betraying his exhaustion. His long sweeping scimitar-curved eyelashes. His enormous nose, aquiline and stately. His thin lips, bare shades darker than his pale pale pale skin. His strong jaw, the same one that moved sharply when reprimanding students now cupped in one of his Potions-callused hands.

"Miss Granger," Snape hissed, as sharply as anyone _could_ hiss. Hermione snapped back to attention. "You may continue to study Potions with me on a higher level, _if_ you are willing to give up your evenings and weekends at first." It was the kindest tone he had ever used with her, and he found himself as shocked as she was by it.

Hermione gasped. She had thought for sure that Professor Snape would refuse. She had no reason to hope that he considered teaching her worthwhile. "Oh, yes, sir! Of course!" Professor Snape was one of her idols, a true genius – he'd invented the Wolfsbane potion at the age of twenty! "Oh, thank you so much, sir!" She exclaimed happily.

Δ

"Albus, I hope you did not encourage Miss Granger in the direction she has chosen," Snape muttered at Dumbledore after the staff meeting.

Dumbledore had announced Miss Granger's decision, as well as Snape's decision to let her take her Potions NEWT two weeks after the others.

"She may not have as much brewing practice as my seventh-years," he'd confided in Dumbledore, "but anyone who could brew Polyjuice in their second year can surely take their Potions NEWT almost two years early."

Δ

Snape sat alone in his rooms, cupping a large mug of strong tea between his strong hands, musing over the day. He certainly had not expected Miss Granger to look quite as _intriguing_ as she had. Somehow, without his realizing it, the young annoying Gryffindor girl had become a bright young woman.

* * *

A/N: Well, this is my very first attempt at writing a fanfiction! I'm pretty excited, and hopefully anyone who reads this will like it...

I've been reading so many Severus/Hermione stories that I wanted to try my hand at one of my own, but I didn't have any ideas for a while. And then last night I had a bout of insomnia and had to resort to music to fall asleep. Normally I listen to 2Cellos to fall asleep, but for some reason I chose Kelly Clarkson. Thank God. The idea for this story just popped into my head as I lay there listening to the music, and thankfully it hung around through the night!

I'm using the Greek letter Delta for my story breaks, in case you didn't know. It's used in mathematics to symbolize change, and it seemed appropriate.

-KJ


	2. Chapter 2 - I Never Saw It Coming

Disclaimer/ A/N:

1. Harry Potter etc. belong to JK Rowling, who has the most wonderful imagination!

2. Anything you recognize probably isn't mine; I don't read every HGSS or HP fanfiction, and probably lots of people have similar ideas.

3. Even though HGSS student-teacher stories are my favorites, I don't support that kind of relationship in reality!

4. As mentioned in #3, HGSS student-teacher stories are my favorite. I can't tell you how many times I've searched through pages and pages of fanfictions looking for a simple, not too dramatic story and not been able to find one! So I wanted to write something kinda basic.

Thanks so much for reading my story!

**Chapter Two: I Never Saw It Coming**

Hermione glanced up from her review for a bare moment to see Harry heading in her direction.

"Not _now_, Harry," she complained, keeping her eyes on the flashcards she'd spent the previous night writing.

"But Hermione," he protested, "I have no idea how to start the potions essay Snape assigned."

"_Professor_ Snape," Hermione corrected automatically, as she'd been doing for the past five years. "And besides, it's good for you to do the work yourself sometimes." She paused in her review for a moment to give Harry a sharp glance. "And you can tell Ron that, too, _before_ he comes and interrupts me."

Harry sighed and rose, crossed the room to plop down between Ginny and Ron, who were both ostensibly working on Snape-assigned essays, though Hermione would have been surprised if they were actually occupied in such a manner.

Well, Ginny did her own work. She would occasionally ask Hermione for a pointer on grammar or diction or some such, but her ideas and theses were always her own, if not very original. But Ron? He only ever copied off Harry, if he couldn't copy off Hermione. And Harry had probably copied Hermione's work in the first place.

Well, that was all about to change. After the next two weeks, Hermione would be exclusively a Potions student. And proud of it. Snape – Professor Snape, Hermione reminded herself; Harry and Ron must be rubbing off on her badly – while not a kind teacher did ensure his students' safety while in his classroom, a necessity in a class where one wrong move could not just blow up a cauldron but potentially kill you. Hermione had become much more sympathetic to Professor Snape after she realized why exactly he was so harsh with his classes.

This led Hermione to a startling question – how exactly had Harry and Ron achieved the requisite marks for the NEWT-level class without cheating? Not that the pair _wasn't_ smart, just that they were lazy – she knew _that_ all too well.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione turned back to her flashcards, noting with surprise and no small amount of alarm that she'd just spent _seven minutes_ spacing out about Harry and Ron's procrastinating ways.

Bleah.

Δ

Snape studied Miss Granger surreptitiously as she prepared the ingredients for her Draught of Living Death. She'd finished the last of her NEWTs the previous day – thank Heaven, he thought, no more obsessive stress levels, at least not about anything other than Potions. He'd suggested that she utilize one of the extra laboratories Hogwarts boasted to practice brewing for her Potions practical in five days. He knew that she would study the theoretical material as obsessively as she always did, likely even more so. What an annoying know-it-all she was.

But her method was perfect. A hair _too_ perfect, in Snape's expert opinion. That could be fixed, though not until after the exam – if he tried correcting her now, she'd get overly upset and fail. Which he most decidedly _did not want_.

He was excited to have a student all his own for the first time. It would be an experiment, one of a kind that he'd not tried before, and new experiments always appealed to him.

Miss Granger heaved a sudden sigh; Snape glanced up at her to ascertain what, exactly, had caused the sound. No explanation was forthcoming from what he could see, however.

"Miss Granger?" he queried, one eyebrow raised.

She looked up, startled, and he saw that her eyes were brighter than usual, somehow more glossy. "Hmm?"

Snape frowned, annoyed with himself for noticing that Miss Granger's eyes were _pretty_. And then it dawned on him _why_ her eyes were brighter, shinier than usual. "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned more than he would be usually.

Miss Granger sniffed once before replying. "Today would have been my grandmother's eightieth birthday," she told him tearfully. "She died on Easter last year, and I didn't see her because I wanted to stay here and study for my OWLs."

Snape was surprised to say the least. Not that he'd thought Miss Granger didn't _have_ a grandmother, just that he hadn't ever considered it. Although obviously if he _had_ considered it he would have realized that of course she had a grandmother. Two, in fact.

"I-" he began, rather stiffly. "My condolences, Miss Granger." Again he found himself being kinder to her than he should be, though perhaps in this case the circumstances warranted it.

Miss Granger sniffed again. "Thank you, Professor," she replied.

Δ

_Wow_, Hermione thought as she left the empty-save-for-Professor-Snape laboratory. _I never thought he'd be so-_ Words failed her; she simply could not think of a phrase to describe what Professor Snape had been. Kind wasn't quite right, although for him, it was certainly kinder than he'd ever been to a Gryffindor.

She sighed in consternation as she treaded the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. "Ring out, wild bells," she told the Fat Lady, who swung forward. It had been Hermione's turn to choose the password this time, and she positively _adored_ Tennyson. Although it had been a toss-up between that line and one from Emily Dickinson ("How public, like a frog" - she thought that poem was so funny).

"You'll never believe what's just happened," she told Harry and Ron. "Professor Snape's been _nice_ to me."

"You're right, I don't believe that," Ron said. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Well, believe it," Hermione replied. "I was trying not to cry about my grandmother – it's her birthday today, or would have been – and Snape noticed."

"Oh, no," Ron interjected.

"That's what I though, too, at first," Hermione said. "But he asked me what was wrong! And then offered his condolences when I told him!"

"No!" Harry and Ron exclaimed.

Hermione nodded in confused disbelief and headed for her notes.

* * *

A/N:

1. The symbol I'm using for scene breaks is the Greek letter Delta (did I explain this before? If so, ooops), which is used to symbolize change.

2. Please review! I'm not going to say that it feeds the muse or plot bunnies or something like that, but it does make me feel better/more confident about what I'm writing! Even an "I like it" is much appreciated! :)

Thanks for reading!

-KJ


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